


spinning with the stars

by kiriya



Category: Tokusatsu Gagaga
Genre: Alcohol, Coming Out, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Meta, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Societal Homophobia, let's go lesbians let's go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 00:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiriya/pseuds/kiriya
Summary: yoshida and nakamura figure it out — pining, found family, and being true to yourself





	spinning with the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catullus_50](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catullus_50/gifts).

> this is a very good, fluffy fic about pining and homosexual yearning, but it mixes in Actual Homophobia with the allegory of needing hide being an otaku. the implied/referenced child abuse tag applies to how nakamura talks about her childhood and her relationship with her mother, but it’s nothing worse than what was depicted in the show. anyone who’s particularly sensitive elements should be safe going in, but i like for people to know what they’re getting going in. hope this was worth the wait! 
> 
> thank you for signing up for the exchange, and enjoy!
> 
> [fic title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOGEyBeoBGM)

Nakamura Kano has never done anything like this before. 

Maybe that one time, at the beach, when she wearing her own clothes and was surrounded by nothing but her friends and the quiet of a rainy afternoon. That was for fun, however, and this is for a grade. Not her grade, but Yoshida’s. This studio that Yoshida has booked (a perfect median distance between their apartments, by the way) has a partnership with Yoshida’s school, and it, with its blinding bright lights and expensive equipment, makes Nakamura feel so out of place, and completely amateurish. 

“Tilt forward.”

Nakamura leans forward in her seat, and gently, Yoshida wraps her thin fingers around the bottom Nakamura’s chin to tilt it up, just slightly. Her touch is filled with precision and care, and the tips of her fingers are so soft against her skin. Nakamura tries not to lean into it, as to not to make herself obvious.

“Close your eyes. Relax for me.” 

Nakamura’s eyes flutter shut, and tries to loosen her muscles without moving too much. Nakamura feels the careful brush of makeup being applied across her eyes. She blends it out in quick, even circles, and Nakamura curls her fingers around the leather armrest, bracing herself to stay still under Yoshida’s gentle touch. 

Nakamura got a lot of say in her look, even though she’s not the one being graded. It’s no secret she prefers to dress plain, and Yoshida said she can wear at least one thing from her own closet to make her more comfortable. Not like the times her mother forced her to dress up if she wanted to leave the house. Her hair is teased to increase the volume, like her mother might have done when she was Miyabi’s age. For someone who’s so old-fashioned, she brags about being on trend. 

“You seem nervous.”

“I guess I am,” Nakamura says, and tries not to squirm for fear of ruining the makeup. For someone with so many secrets, she has difficulty keeping her troubles internal. “I’m just … Not used to this kind of thing.”

“Well, let me know if they’re anything I can do to help you relax. How you feel will come through in the photos. Camera doesn’t lie.” 

Somehow, that doesn’t make her feel any better. Again, Nakamura tries not to squirm. “Can I … tell you something that might sound strange?”

“Mmm,” Yoshida murmurs, concentrated on her face. Her grip on Nakmura’s chin is steady, and she dabs her face with such care, Nakamura feels impossibly bad for what she’s about to say:

“I — I hate makeup,” Nakamura confesses, but it sounds more like a blurt. It’s a nothing admission, probably be obvious by how little she wears it, but she still feels nervous confessing. She swallows, and braces herself for Yoshida’s judgement. “I always have, since my mom made me start wearing it in middle school. It makes my face feel weird.” 

Nakamura can’t see her face, but disbelief is apparent in Yoshida’s tone when she replies, “Your mother made you?” 

“She wanted me to look pretty,” Nakamura explains. “She’d get upset with me if I left the house without putting any on. Sometimes, she’d make me go back inside and do it, or she wouldn’t let me go out.” 

“Does it feel weird now? I’d hate like I want to make you into someone you’re not. This is your vision, too.”

“A little, but not in a bad way,” Yoshida’s fingers slip off her chin, and it’s so slow it’s painful. “I’ve always been sensitive… And it’s fun, to be someone you’re not. I miss pretending to shoot a photobook with everyone all the time.” 

She doesn’t just miss it, she yearns for it. All her friends together, being careless and indulgent, away from everything and everyone that might judge them. 

”I miss it, too,” Yoshida says, wist evident in her soft tone. The sensation of the brush leaves Nakamura’s face. “You can lean back now. How are things with your mother? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Good?” It’s not a confident answer by any means. She leans back in her seat, and attempts to clear her throat to give an answer with more resolution. “Better. I can’t hear my blood pressure spiking when she calls me anymore, but things are still better when I have my brother to buffer between us. And she always doing an uncomfortable amount of hugging when I see her...”

“I see. I used the photos I took of you at the beach in my admissions portfolio ... Did I mention?”

“You’re kidding.” 

“Well, I needed to show some portrait work, and that was the only time I had done any. Outside of toku suits, that is. Besides, you looked so beautiful in them.”

Something warm crawls under Nakamura’s skin.“I did?”

“Yes. You’re an amazing model, Nakamura-san _ .  _ Your commitment to the fantasy amazed me. Like you said, it’s fun to become someone else. _ ” _

Nakamura’s never been the most comfortable with compliments, but coming from Yoshida ...

“I’m sure you used everyone else’s photos too...” 

“No. Just you.” She says. Her voice is sure. It’s obviously not a lie, and the admission makes Nakamura’s chest feels tight. “One of my professors even made a comment on how pretty you are. She said I had to have you model for our portraiture project.”

“Can I tell you ... one more strange thing?”

“I’ve never told anyone else this, but … I hate when people call me ‘pretty.’ Or ‘beautiful.’ I know anyone else would be flattered, but it makes me feel nauseous. It just … reminds me too much of what my mother would say to make me fit in. And I just felt... That’s all she ever valued in me, as her daughter. She made feel like that’s what I needed to be proper girl, and … I’m not.” 

“Then I’ll find something else to encourage you with then.” And for that, Nakamura is extremely grateful. Yoshida’s fingers cup her chin again, and there’s one last, gentle brush across Nakamura’s cheek before Yoshida says, “Open your eyes.” 

Nakamura does so. She sees herself in the mirror, entirely like herself but entirely someone else. Teased hair, shiny lips, and a tasteful wing of eye shadow, making her eyes look longer . The shadow is cool black. Nakamura experimentally tilts her head, and it sparkles like it has stars in it. The look is retro, but it reminds her perfectly of a toku heroine who fights vampires and time travels. The resemblance feels like instant power. 

Nakamura hopes she makes her proud.

**.**

  
  


“You look amazing.” 

Nakamura nods. “Do I? I feel like it was easier when I was pretending to be Onoe-kun.” 

“Don’t worry, Nakamura-san, you’re a natural in front of the camera.” 

“I find that hard to believe. I always had such trouble sitting still as a kid...” 

(She’s so overly cautious of things her mother used to chide her for)

Nakamura’s changes her pose, trying not to look too locked up. It’s hard. The camera makes her feel like Yoshida can see every part of her. Nakamur’s always feels more aware of herself around Yoshida. Scared she’ll come off too excited or too stiff. Always she’ll worried say or do the wrong thing and shatter the comfortable ease they’ve fallen into — expose something she can’t say yet.

The situation, the closeness, the scrutiny, is only aggravating that. Camera doesn’t lie. 

In fairness, all of Kano’s interactions with her acquaintances are laced with anxiety, but around Yoshida, it’s different. The inches between them seem thicker, and her heart goes faster, not just for fear, but for promise. A constant hope that thrums with in her, the yearning for just a little more. Just the slightest shift in their relationship, a little more closeness.

Nakamura sees the corner of Yoshida’s lips curve upward, coy. The smile that feels like it’s just for her, before she ducks her head behind the camera again and it’s gone. 

“You’re doing perfect.” 

Another flash goes off, and Nakamura adjusts herself just so. She turns, gives the camera a look over her shoulder. Smiles.

Nakamura’s life has changed rapidly in the past six months. But being with Yoshida is the highlight of her days, the thing she looks forward to the most during the week, second to Saturday Mornings. And she loves all new friends, but it’s different when it’s just the two of them. It feels like something sacred, like being at the beginning of everything. 

“This isn’t right,” Yoshida says, staring at the back of her camera.

Nakamura’s smile falls. “What?”

“The pose is wrong. Do you mind if I—?” Yoshida gestures to come towards her.

“Oh, no, of course not,” She says, but the idea of having Yoshida so close... Nakamure bows slightly. “It’s your project.” 

Yoshida steps around the camera, and moves towards her, steps light and easy. 

Yoshia places her behind her, the lines of their bodies mere inches apart. Nakamura’s breath hitches as Yoshida places her hands over her waist, but doesn’t quite touch. Thankfully, it’s not audible. 

“May I?” Yoshida asks. Her voice is right at Nakamura’s ear. 

“Yes,” Nakamure says. “Of course.” 

Yoshida slips hands beneath the leather jacket, places her hands on Nakamura’s waist, thin fabric separating skin from skin. Nakamura can’t even see Yoshida, but her touch is intense. Yoshida guides her, gently to turn to the left. Secure at the new angle, Nakamura readjusts her pose, a hand on her hip. 

“Good. Now…”

She feels Yoshida’s fingers on hers, guiding her hand up. She looks down, the sight of their hands together like that something is something she’s never going to forget. Yoshida’s other hand goes to Nakamura’s shoulder, pushing it back. 

How can this much closeness and the light touch of such gentle hands make her feel drunk. 

“There,” Nakamura’s suppresses a shudder with Yoshida’s voice at her shoulder. “Just tilt your chin up, and spread your legs a little further.”

Warmth floods Nakamura’s face. She tilts her head back so their faces are at little closer. “Yoshida-san...” 

Yoshida is busy scrutinizing the pose — scrutinizing every detail of her — but looks up. 

“Hmm?” Yoshida’s eyes look big, expectant. Nakamura’s never been this close to her face before. Not enough to see details: the patterns in eyes, anns the freckles on her nose. What did she want to say again? 

(This feels like a significant moment. Tense, like of the end of Jushowan. Right before the finale, when ShiShiLeo and Toraiger met at sunset, with the waves breaking at the rocky shore, ShiShiLeo thanked Toraiger for being there to remind him who he was the power of the Poison Pollution Sword threatened to consume him.)

“Just … Thank you,” she finds herself saying, and meaning it. 

Yoshida raises a curious brow. “Thank me for what? For what? Letting you model?” 

Nakamura goes quiet, and turns forward, towards the camera.

“Just … You thanked me for changing your life, but have I ever really thank you? I was … felt so alone before I met you. Scared, to let anybody really know me, because I thought … They wouldn’t like what they would find._. _If I hadn’t seen you on the train that day, if I hadn’t become your friend, I don’t know where I’d be. I always watched toku, and wished to have the kind of friendship the characters had. I’m -- I’m glad you’re on my team.”

It’s a little silly. Stupid, and wildly sentimental, but it’s without any of her normal shyness. Convicted, like a hero. If anything, Tokusatsu has taught her to be true to her heart, no matter how cheese-y she may sound. 

When Nakamura looks back at Yoshida, Yoshida’s expression is visibly fond, making her feel soft all over.

“It’s a little like fate, isn’t it?” She says, a soft smile playing on her lips. “What are the odds of us sitting across from each other on the train, not once, but twice? I don’t even live in your area. And then at the mall … We both almost didn’t go that day, but we did. And our lives changed for the better.” 

“Fate,” It’s a word said by every hero in toku, and sung in every opening, but it’s never something hears in real life, let alone says herself. It feels weighted on her tongue. Important. “Like … Time Rider Twelve. Dusk and Dawn … Their meeting was totally random, and their ideals clash, but that’s what makes them perfect for each other. Even the dirtbag CEO admitted that, together, they’re the Ultimate Duo and their meeting was destined.”

“You watched the movie, right? Their  Twilight fusion form was so handsome.” Yoshida smiles that tilted smile again, like she’s about to tell Nakamura a secret. “Just like you,” she says, eyes shining with appreciation and sincerity. Nakamura’s heart flutters like a butterfly in the cage of her chest.Yoshida’s smile is still silly and wicked she says, “However, when I give it some thought, you and Kitashiro-san are the ones with the personalities made to cause friction...” 

Nakamura laughs, feeling sincere and impossibly soft. “Dawn was always my favorite,” she confesses. “I always admired how serious she was about being a rider...”

“You know,” Yoshida says, another smile brightening her face. “I’m not just flattering you when I say what an amazing model you are. I’m sure some of the other students would love to photograph you. It pays pretty well, too. You won’t have to bento to work anymore.”

Nakamura gives her a questioning look. “But you’re not paying me.”

“Of course not.” Yoshida smiles, and it’s teasing and light. Nakamura feels at total, blissful peace until she says, “I’m buying you dinner instead.”

.

  
  


Nakamura takes her with Kitashiro lunch outside. She spends too many of her hours inside, like the otaku stereotype says, and it’s good, to absorb something into skin other than the bizarrely green-ish fluorescents of the office and her apartment’s single ceiling light.

Yuki and Mai have taken to eating with Nakamura and Kitashiro sometimes, but today, they’re squeezing in appointment with a popular, ritzy cater for the upcoming wedding during their lunch break. Miyabi’s here, only in the area because she wanted to check out a second-hand boutique near their office. Nakamura has tuned out her and Kitashiro’s conversation somewhat, as they swipe through teaser images of Bee Boy’s next music video on Miyabi’s phone, trading theories back and forth. Nakamura catches a word or two about robots. 

Her mind wanders to other things. The episode of _Chance Rider Vegas_ that came out two days ago, the scene where _Tadase_ attacked _Daichi_ for getting in the way of him confronting his evil father. Finally. And Tadase used _Infinity_ form for the first time, too. She thinks about Yoshida’s hands on her hips guiding her, gentle and soft, the contrast it had command in her voice when she ordered her body around. Right at her shoulder, warm breath on her ear. How many lunches will she need to pack next week, Nakamura wonders, if she wants to buy _The Gamble Driver_?

_ “Nakamura-san. _ ” 

Kano jolts. The sound of her name is loud, insistent. Strict, like it’s been called more than once. It’s a familiar note, reminding her of all the time she got in trouble for daydreaming in school. 

“I said you you look nice today,” Kitashiro repeats, an oddly stern-sounding compliment. Across from her, Kitashiro’s eyes are downcast, focused on the food in front of her. The conversation she was having with Miyabi must have been intense, because it looks like she’s hardly touched it. 

Nakamura snaps her eyes back up at her. Kano feels her mouth open, and she makes a sound like “Uh.” She blinks a few times, unable to process what was said when he mind was so wrapped up in another thing. “What?” 

“I said: you look nice today.”

“... What?” 

It’s not like the day she came to work before seeing her mother — she looks just as she always does. Maybe a little more makeup than usual—she’s been trying it, just a bit since her photoshoot with Yoshida — but it’s nothing too dramatic. She is still herself. 

“I think so, too!” Miyabi interjects, eyes bright, and eager. “You’re glowing!” 

Nakamura blinks. She’s glowing? Miyabi’s the one glowing. She always is, with her sunny disposition and the way she carries such obvious youth. 

“Are you seeing Yoshida-san today?” Kitahshiro looks at her over the tops of her glasses, chin down. Nakamura feels her dark, perceptive eyes underneath her skin, making her warm all over. 

“Um … Yes?” Nakamura answers, then looks away. “Why does that matter?”

“Curious. We haven’t seen her in a long time,” Kitashiro replies, casual-sounding. Casual sounding for Kitashiro at least. “Is she still with her boyfriend?”

“Mmm,” Miyabi nods with a mouth full of food, then swallows. “I’ve seen some pictures of him. He’s cute.” 

“I don’t know … ” Nakamura replies.

“Well, she’d tell us if they’d broke up, right?” Miyabi says. “We’re her friends.”

(Nakamura nods, but she and Yoshida always call each other  _ allies _ , not friends. The word makes Nakamura’s lips each twist in the way only an inside joke can. The way only Yoshida can make her smile. Like they’ve cut out their own corner of the universe everyone else can see, but not understand. Even though they have Kitashiro and Miyabi now too; it started with them and that will always be special to her.)

“Why are you smiling?” Kitashiro asks. 

“Oh — it’s nothing! Just Jushowan.” 

“I see.” 

“Then again, Yoshida-san never told us she had a boyfriend in the first place,” Miyabi recalls

Kitashiro looks right at Nakamura her eyes are sharp... “And the shock was so much I had to meddle for the both of you to start talking again.” 

Nakamura’s attempt not to grimace comes off an awkward smile.  _ She was just scared of Damien. That’s all.  _

“It was a misunderstanding…”

“So you say. Yoshida-san’s been making herself more available to you recently. I think that’s evidence they broke up.” 

Nakamura doesn’t have the time to ask Kitashrio to elaborate on what she means by that before Miyabi makes a dramatic display of putting her chin in her hand and pouts. She idly picking at her food with her chopsticks. They brand the small red ensignia of another idol group Nakamura knows she likes, and Miyabi has a baby pink bento that matches it.

“I’m jealous of how much time you two spend together,” she laments, overly miserable, but the outward jut of her lip is adorable. “But I feel so third-wheeled when you guys talk about toku. I never know what’s going on.”

“They have a special relationship,” Nakamura feels like she should protest that (though she is happy, and flattered), but Kitashiro continues before Nakamura gets the chance, “They share the same interest, and were friends with each other before any of us. I’m sure Nakamura-san feels the same way when we talk about Bee Boys,”

Miyabi perks up like she was never sad, and points her chopsticks at Nakamura. “Well, make sure to give Yoshida-san a hug from me when you see her!” Nakamura won’t be doing that, but she’ll at least pass on the sentiment. “And tell her I miss her!” 

“I will.” 

“I’m thinking about dying my hair,” Miyabi continues. “You know, like a crazy color, before I graduate and need to get a salary. I asked my manager at my part-time job, and she said it was okay...”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Kitashiro responds.

Miyabi pushes at her shoulder, but Kitashiro is a steady rock. “I hate when you’re no fun. Jun died his hair peach, once, and you said it was your favorite look on him...” 

Nakamura’s mind strays to the fight between Vegas and his father again, and her friend’s words become white noise.

.

That afternoon, Nakamura and Yoshida can meet at the mall for a show. Seeing all the suits from her favorite franchise is intense rush for Nakamura, as usual, and the experience is always intensified with Yoshida at her side. Even though the weather has changed since the last show they attended together in winter, they’re still held outside, and as soon as the show ends, Nakamura demands relief from the summer heat in the form of ice cream from.

“The show was good,” Nakamura says, while paying. “Better than the last one.”

Nakamura knows she has Yoshida’s attention, but she’s looking at the back of her camera, pressing through photos. “Mmm, the actors really seem to know the characters, now that the show’s progressed so much. Imagine how they feel, if you’re exhausted after sitting down in your normal clothes.”

“Mmm. Last week’s episode of Toriranger was so good. I miss Jushowan, though,” Nakamura gives a dreamy sigh as they walk away from the crowd around the ice cream stall. “Nothing gets my heart going like ShiShiLeo’s roar.” 

“Still, we need to open to change, remember? I spent so much time not enjoying Jushowan as much as I should have because I missed the show before it ...That being said, though” Yoshida looks at her through the side of her eyes, and shares a consprital smile with her. “The new blue ranger’s butt isn’t as good as Toraiger’s.” 

Nakamura giggles into her ice cream and smiles. “Have you read the rumors?” 

Yoshida blinks at her, shockedt. “It’s that time? Already? We’re only on episode 25 of  _ Toriranger. _ ”

“Well, it’s grain of salt around this time, but I hear one of the idols from Bee Boys is going to play the red ranger. And that it’s pirate-themed?” 

“Pirate-themed? That sounds exciting. Such a new idea, too.” Yoshida muses. “I’m not sure I believe it. Do you think Miyabi and Kitashiro will get into tokusatsu with us now that one of the Bee Boys is in it? 

Nakamura heaves a sigh. “We tried that with Yuki-chan, and it didn’t really work. If someone doesn’t appreciate tokusatsu for the cheesey, heart-filled thing that is, then they don’t appreciate it.”

“Nakamura-san,” Yoshida chides, but it’s tinged with more affection than admonishment. Did she say something wrong? Something stupid? Nakamura gives her a curious look, and Yoshida laughs a little. She mock scratches her lip. “You got a little — I’ll get it.”

Yoshida wets the pad of her thumb with her tongue —  _ oh my god _ — then reaches to slowly drag it against Nakamura’s bottom lip. Nakamura’s feels her mouth fall open ever so slightly at the touch. She blinks once, twice, until Yoshida’s fond smile comes back into focus.

The desire to just kiss Yoshida is a intense, but —

Yoshida doesn’t like Nakamura in that way. And she has a boyfriend. Maybe? She honestly can’t say. Nakamura has only met him once, and Yoshida never talks about him.

“Ah, Yoshida-san …” Nakamura says, a question in her tone. 

Yoshida wipes her thumb on one of the napkins she got from the food court, and gives Nakamura a curious look. “Yes?” 

As amazing and special being with Yoshida is, there’s always the 

“I have ... a personal question to ask you.”

“That’s okay,.”

“Are you,” And Nakamura wants to quit right there, but takes a deep breath, steeling herself. If she gets too much push back, she can always play it off as Miyabi being curious. “Are you still with your boyfriend?” 

“What?”

“Sorry! It’s just! You never bring him up in conversation, and Miyabi and Kitahshiro were asking me if I knew…” 

“Kitashiro? Gossiping about my personal life?” 

“She’ll surprise you.” 

Yoshida smiles, then shakes her head and waves her hand. “Well, it’s okay that they asked. We broke up a bit ago...” 

Why does that answer feel like a thousand pounds lifted off Nakamura’s shoulder. Guilt squirms around uncomfortably in her chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Can I ask why?”

Yoshida shrugs. “I just … I realized I wasn’t that interested in him. I said yes to dating him, because he showed interest in me, and … It’s hard — to find people close to my age who don’t have kids. And I enjoyed spending time with him, but … Didn’t feel much more than that. Not like the friendship I feel for you.” 

_ For you. _ Nakamura’s heart jumps, and its beat suddenly feels erratic, like lightning striking multiple times in one place. The expression on Nakamura’s face must embarrass Yoshida, because tilts her head anyway. 

“I guess I just … fell into the idea that I should settle because I’m older, but truthfully, I don’t have the time to waste on relationships I only have half my heart in. A relationship should be more. Someone I rely on, the person I hold closest to me, someone who ... Changes myself for the better. Like how I feel about my friendship with you. Like Toraiger and ShiShi Leo.” 

Yoshida stops. Smiles, and gives her a look. Yoshida’s smile always feels like a magnetic pull, but Nakamura schools herself to looks away. She can’t let her emotions show all over her face. She tries not to think about Yoshida’s words too much. She can’t, lest she gets her hopes ridiculously high, and ruin the most meaningful relationship in her life, next to her brother. 

“This is going to sound silly, but you saw the extra movie, right? The web exclusive?”

“Yes,” Nakamura replies. “Of course.”

“You know Toraiger … he gets a love interest, right?” Nakamura nods along. “He meets that girl, whose parents were killed by the band of thieves he used to be a part of. They get married and everything in the Jushowan novel and everything. And … That seems so silly to me! Why would he be with her, after everything he’s been through with ShiSh Leo? ShiShi Leo knows him so much better, and their relationship is the most important one in the show! Why would bother being with someone who's not most important to you?“

“That ... made you want to break up with your boyfriend?”

Yoshida’s ducks her chin, and visibly blushes. “‘I warned you it was silly…”

Nakamura’s crush hits with such a sudden, full force her legs feel weak. 

“Everything you need in life is taught to you by Tokusatsu.” She tells Yoshida, sure to say so a hero’s convention. It’s what she lives by. “But ShiShi Leo and Toraiger ... They can’t be together, right? Not in the way you’re saying.”

“Because they’re both boys?” Nakamura nods, and Yoshida shakes her head. “Even if some people say it’s wrong, I don’t think that matters. Especially when your connection with someone is that real.”

“You really believe that?”

“Don’t you?” 

“Yes. I do. I’m just -- surprised you said it. No one ever wants to give their opinions on these things.” 

“Well. A hero always stands up for what she believes in. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the break up earlier,” Yoshida continues. “Honestly, I’ve been … hiding so much about myself for so long, I’m not used to being so candid about my personal life. Is that silly of me?” 

“No. I understand. I understand perfectly,” Nakamura insists. That’s exactly how she feels, about so many things. “I -- also consider you one of the people I’m closest to, and there’s something I want to tell you ..” 

“I’m listening.”

“The reason I’m not interested in marriage,” Nakamura says. “It’s not because I’m an otaku. It’s because I’m not interested in men. I only like women.” 

“Oh,” Yoshida replies. “So you’re —”

“A lesbian,” Nakamura finishes. Actually saying the word out loud makes her feel strange. She’s said it once, when she came out her brother in college. “Does that change the way you see me...? Or our friendship?” 

“No. Of course not. Did you think it would?” 

“No. I know you’re not that kind of person, but … I was still scared.” 

“Ah, well, don’t worry,” Yoshida assures her. “It doesn’t change a thing. I had … a vague sense, but never said anything out of respect for your privacy.” 

“Did I do something—” 

“No. One gets a sense for these things as they get older,” Yoshida informs her. “And people like us tend to run in flocks. Even subconsciously, I think.”

“People like us? You mean otaku?” 

(There have been times where Nakamura’s wondered if Yoshida is the same as her, if they have a shared interest other than Tokusatsu, but every time she’s thought about actually confirming that, her imagination immediately kicks into overdrive.  _ Stop daydreaming and focus _ , a voice would tell her. It sounds a lot like her mother.)

“No … I like women. Men too, but women a little more these days,” Yoshida’s eyes spark as her lips twist wryly. “I’m starting to think it’s just women and Toraiger... Just shows no matter old you are, you still have things to figure out.” 

Nakamura thinks of all kisses from men she’s turned her cheek to.  _ It’s because none of the men she knows in real life can measure up to Tokusatsu men _ , she told herself, before she was ready to accept the truth about herself. 

Nakamura sighs. “I’m glad I told you. I’ve spent so much time and energy hiding everything from everything else, I didn’t want to feel like I was keeping secrets from you. You’re the first real friend I’ve felt I can be honest with in a long time.”

“Thank you, Nakamura-san. It’s no secret how much your friendship as meant to me,” Nakamura’s heart gets a sharp kick out the confession, and Yoshida smiles. “While we’re on the subject, I always felt Time Rider Dawn had a bit of a crush on Dusk...”

“Okay, now I know you’re joking...”.

.

The sound of Kitashiro’s voice breaks Nakamura out of an elaborate daydream.

(She’s in the middle of her second rewatch of Jushowan since the show ended. She and Yoshida have coordinated their rewatch, so they’ll be at the same point the next time they meet up. She likes silly filler, but the arc she’s at is so tense, when Toraiger decides to betray ShiShiLeo to help his childhood friend. Even though she knows Toraiger will choose ShiShiLeo in the end, it’s one of those days where Nakamura feels like she’s shaking in her skin all day, the anticipation to go home and continue watching is so thick.)

“Nakamura-san.” 

Nakamura nearly jumps and turns around so fast she’s lucky to not knock anything over. Kitashiro stands in the door of the break room, with a characteristically intense expression. Even though they’re friends now (and she’s seen Kitashiro sing to Bee Boys ‘til she’s hoarse), Nakamura still forgets not to get scared around her sometimes. 

“Uh. Yes?” 

If Nakamura’s extreme reaction phased Kitashiro, she doesn’t SHOW it. “Who are bringing as your plus one to Mai-san’s wedding?” 

“Oh. Um. I don’t know yet.”

Honestly, Nakamura’s been trying to put it out of her mind. She’s happy for Mai, because they’re friends, but weddings, babies. Nakamura’s start to not like them. Or maybe she just doesn’t the feeling that the older she gets, the farther behind she legs from everyone else.

“You’re not bringing Yoshida-san?” Kitashiro asks. 

“What? No,” Nakamura replies, then gives Kitashiro a wary look. “Why would ask me that if you thought you already knew the answer?”

“I was just confirming. And why not? Miyabi is coming with me.”   
  
“I -,” Nakamura turns back away from Kitashiro. “It’s different.” 

Even looking away, she can feel the narrow of Kitashiro’s eyes. “Why?” 

“Because.”

“Nakamura-san. We’re friends.” 

“Uh.” Nakamura knows it’s true, but it’s still strange to hear Kitashiro say the words. And it’d be rude for her not to confirm, so she does, “Yes.” 

“Then can I ask you a personal question?”

“Okay…”

“Why were you so upset when you found out Yoshida-san had a boyfriend?”

Nakamura feels a sudden onslaught of intense emotion she can only describe as panic.

“It was nothing. just thought. We both ... didn’t have any interest in dating.”

“No interest in dating,” Kitashiro repeats. Nakamura gives an affirmative nod, but feels like she hasn’t really hid anything. “Nakamura-san. I am a reasonable person, and I’d never judge you for anything you’re unable to help.”

_ Something she can’t help. _ What a way to phrase it. Nakamura swallows. 

“What are you saying …?”

“I don’t like seeing the both of you two dance around each other. If you and Yoshida-san like each other, you should be together.”

Nakamura shakes her head. “You misunderstand. Yoshida-san — she doesn’t feel the same way about me…”

“Didn’t Yoshida-san break up with her boyfriend?” 

“Yes. She did.”

“Did she explain why?”

“Ah, she said,” Nakamura takes a deep breath. “She just said it wasn't serious. She only felt friendship for him, and it wasn't — it wasn't a strong as her relationship with me." 

"Yoshida-san said that?"  
  
"Yes."

“To clarify. She broke up with her boyfriend, before her feelings for him didn’t compare to her feelings for you… Do you see my point?”

“Well, it also had to do with the web-exclusive Jushowan episode …”

“Nakamura-san.”

“... Sorry.” 

“Do you see my point?” 

“I - Yes.

She sees what Kitashiro means, but doesn’t exactly think she’s right. Yoshida's not shy, like she is. She's older, more confident. If she liked Nakamura, she'd be direct.

“Then my job is done.”

“Kitashiro-san,” Nakamura calls after her before leaves, and Kitashiro turns. “... Why help me? I know that we’re friends, but this is the second time you’ve meddled for Yoshida-san and I, and … I hope this isn’t impolite, but it doesn’t fit your I-want-to-be-left alone character archetype.”

“People are more complicated than they are in Tokusatsu.”

“Right."

”And I’m a hopeless romantic,” she says, her face is solid as stone.

**.**

It’s once in a blue moon they can all get together like this. Nakamura memorizes the choreography of Bee Boy’s latest music video for the occasion. Even if her rendition is flawed, her heart is in it, and Miyabi tells her that’s what matters most.

Nakamura is watching Yoshida while everyone watches Ninkyo-san, passionately performing a love cute opening. Yoshida looks so attractive in the purple-blue ambience of the karaoke room. The dimness of the light softens her skin -- it’s flawless -- and casts dark shadows that accentuate her features. Nakamura feels more aware of her now, then she ever daThis booking is smaller than their usual room, and it’s warm with everyone in it. Nakamura and Yoshida’s knees touch under the table, and the indigo lights catches a bead of sweat as it rolls down Yoshida’s neck, pooling on her collarbone. 

Yoshida’s eye catch hers -- her face spikes with heat, she’s been caught staring -- but she just smiles, with clear such fondness. 

(What if Kitahshiro is right? What if there’s a chance that Yoshida really does like her back? Yoshida’s own comments stick to the back of her brain like putty, about being with the person most important to you)

By the end of the session, Nakamura’s can barely feel her limbs, and her throat feels raw by the end of their session. So much singing, even a bit of yelling. Paying is a bit of a nightmare, with Miyabi and Ninkyo-san giggling to each other and being unhelpful. It could the lateness of the hour, making Nakamura’s mind and body feel heavy and light all at the same time…. Or she’s a little drunk. 

It’s hard to tell. She only ever goes out to bars with her co-workers, and she never drinks when she’s with them. Too scared of not having every part of her brain functioning, too scared of saying something that changes the way they see her forever. 

When the group leave the bar -- not without some hiccups and some incessant straggleling -- they instantly feel the summer night. The air is thick with heat, and Nakamura is warm inside and out. Miyabi and Ninkyo-san are whispering and laughing into each other’s space conspiratorially. Miyabi finally encourage him enough to ask the waiter who likes Love Cute for his number, and the thrill of his success has counter-acted however the alcohol might have worn them out. Kitashiro’s serious demeanor has not wavered. Unsmiling, hands tucked in her folded arms, but from looking at her, the exertion is obvious. Hair is coming loose of her ponytail, all her around her head. It sticks to her forehead, which bears the obvious sheen of sweat. 

Yoshida props Nakamura up with her arm, and Nakamura clings to her shamelessly. This moment, being around her friends and having fun, is euphoric. What makes her life worth living, apart from looking forward toward every Saturday Morning. And Yoshida’s waist is slender and amazing to touch; Nakamura can’t get enough. Even the few girls Nakamura has kissed, under the silly, childish guise of needing of practice for “later,” Nakamura has never touched like this.

Miyabi giggles behind her sleeve -- a denim jacket that’s adorable and too big for her. The collar is speared through with colorful pins, and the denim is adorned with cute sew-on patches. “Okay, so if you were a hero, what would your henshin be like?” 

“Oh! Okay, I have mine.” Ninkyo-san says, an eager volunteer. His face becomes almost as Kitahsiro’s before, before he spins, pops up his leg, and forms a heart around his head with thick arms. “ _ I _ _ am the protector of those who believe in love and hope! _ ”

“Okay, Nakamura-san, your turn.”

Nakamura buries her head in Yoshida’s neck and shakes her head. Her face feels like it’s burning. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Oh my god, don’t lie! I know you have.” Miyabi insists. “I already have a name for my idol group, and I know all of our personality archetypes. We’re Strawberry Sweetheart. I’m the cute one, and Kitashiro-san is the quiet, soulful one.”

“Ok, ok,” Nakamura concedes, peeling herself off of Yoshida. Nakamura stomps to her left, beats her fist against her chest, and points with her right hand. _“I will shine light on those left in the dark!” _She declares proudly, before losing her balance and stumbling back. Yoshida catches her dutifully.

Miyabi, “Wow. You came up with that phrase all by yourself? So cool!”

“Very hero-like,” Ninkyo-san agrees with a nod and a thumbs-up.

Miyabi turns to Yoshida. “What about you, Yoshida-san?”

“I could show you, but I think that’d involve dropping Nakamura-san…”

“Miyabi is staying with me tonight,” Kitashiro announces, then glances in the direction of where Nakamura and Yoshida are tangled together. “I think you’re going to have to help Nakamura get home, Yoshida-san.” 

“I think so, too.” Yoshida agrees. 

Yoshida hails a cab for them, and as it pulls up to the curb, Nakamura glances back at the group, to appreciate the sight of her friends together one last time, and catches Kitashiro giving her (and Yoshida) a meaningful look that makes her stomach squirm.

.

“Do you feel better now?” Yoshida asks. They’re back at her apartment, in her kitchen, if you could ever really call it that. Yoshida is sitting across from her at the fold-out table.

“Yes,” Nakamura replies. Her thoughts are coming in slow, but at least she doesn’t feel quite as gross as she did before. “The water helped a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever drank that much before...”

“I’m sorry, Nakamura-san. Maybe I should have kept a closer eye on you. ”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. It’s because I was having fun. I only ever go out for work events, and then I’m too anxious to drink.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your apartment before. Your Jushowan collection so impressive, to put it modestly... I feel like I’m in heaven.” 

Just when Nakamura thought the alcohol was mostly gone, her face feels warm again. She hadn’t thought about it, with the liquor clogging her brain, but this is the first time Nakamura had someone come over to her apartment, without planning three days in advance to pack everything away. 

(There’s still an empty space on her wall, still, where the Bestial Sword once she saves enough to get it.)

“It’s heaven for me,” Nakamura replies, then ducks her chin. “I never thought anyone else would think so.” 

Yoshida’s wraps her long fingers around the strap of her purse. Turns in her “I should go, now that you feel better.” 

Nakamura reaches across the table and grabs her other wrist before she can move any further. “Stay,” she insists. 

Yoshida looks at their hands touching on the table between them. She must be a little drunk too, because when Yoshida tilts her face up to look at Nakamura, because her dark pupils are blown wide. 

Nakamura has never invited anyone to stay before, but it seems unfair, when the trains are closed and Yoshida 

“I wouldn’t want to be an imposition...”

“You wouldn’t be. You already spend so much to come see me every week, and I don’t want you to take a cab all the way back this late. And you drank too...”

“I couldn’t. I don’t have clothes…” 

“Borrow some.”

**.**

Nakamura is already in bed when Yoshida emerges from the bathroom, and Nakamura lifts her head. The Jushowan shirt Nakamura gave her is too big. It was a limited edition, and Nakamura liked the design so much, she didn’t care what she size got it in. It falls at a modest enough length on her, but Yoshida’s legs are bare, long and slender. Not like Nakamura’s set of two piece pajamas. Nakamura tries her best not to stare, eyes quickly darting up to Yoshida’s face.

“Do you have a spare sheet?” She asks. 

“Ah. I was just thinking … We could share my bed. There’s room for two.”

Perhaps this was plan was poorly conceived. 

“You’re sure I’m not imposing?” 

“No. Just make sure you get the light before you —” Nakamura stops. She can’t say the words:  _ come to bed.  _

Yoshida flicks the switch behind one of Nakamura’s posters, and the lights click off. Except for the incandescent glow of the night light plugged in next to her desk. It’s ShiShi Leo, of course.

The mattress shifts with Yoshida’s weight, and the bed is warmer with her in it. Even though there’s room for two, their limbs brush under the sheets, and the softness of Yoshida’s skin sends fluttery jolts up Nakamura’s spine.

(The room is dead quiet, but Nakamura has never heard anything louder than the beat of her heart right now.)

“Yoshida-san,” Kano asks carefully. Anxiety creeps into her chest, thicker than before. “I have a question to ask”

“Again?”

“I’m sorry...”

“No. Go right ahead.”

“When did you start … liking toku?”

Yoshida catches the meaning of her question with a knowing twist to her lips. Visible even in the dark. “Well, I always have, but — There was a time when I hoped I grow out of it.”

Nakamura’s heartbeat go even faster. “And when did that stop? When did you stop feeling .. Scared? Or ashamed of it?”

“I’m not ashamed… Are you?”

“N-no. But — You know. I still feel bad, sometimes. Like, there’s that I want I’ll never get to have like everyone else, or… I’ll never truly fit in the way the world wants me to.”

“Well, that never goes away.”

“Oh.” 

“We just need — just need to form our own happiness. Carve out our own corner of the world. And … we’ve done haven’t we? Together,” Everything inside Nakamura feels soft, like flowers exploding in her chest. Even in the dark, Nakamura can see the shine of emotion in Yoshida’s eyes. “With our friends.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I know that.”

She’s so, grateful for them. That she met Yoshida, and her life changed. To have friendships that come even just a little bit close to the ones she sees in Tokusatsu. That’s what teams are all about. Having a place to call her down. Being a family, even if it’s not by blood or the Bestial Call. 

(And there were them, being at the beginning, and that will always be special to her. That can be called hers hers too.)

“Yoshida-san,” Nakamura say softly. “Does it feel … different to you, when it’s just the two of us?”

“It does,” Yoshida confesses. Equally soft. “This … it all started with us, didn’t? And… You’re the one who reminded me it’s okay to be I am.” 

_ Like Toraiger and ShiShiLeo.  _

They’re so close now. The sweet scent of Yoshida’s shampoo surrounds them, overwhelming. Coconut, and something Nakamura’s never been never been able to place. Everything is still, until Yoshida’s tongue darts out to wet her slips. Nakamura’s eyes flick down, to where the night light, catches the fresh shine on her lips. 

The urge is impossible to resist, her lips are right there. In the darkness of her room, Nakamura feels like there’s nothing else the world right now but them. Nakamura tilts her head to the side. Leans forward and kisses her. Just the slightest brush of lips, but still a kiss. 

“Go to sleep, Nakamura-san.” 

Yoshida’s expression is unreadable in the light,but her whisper is soft against her face. and Nakamura’s mind is heavy with liquor and exhaustion. What happened almost feels like a dream.

Nakamura sucks on her bottom lips and nods. Nakamura’s hands touch Yoshida’s waist under the blanket, barely there. “Can I?” 

Yoshida is silent for a moment, before answering, “Yes. Yes, you can.” 

Nakamura wraps her arms around Yoshida’s waist. It’s slender, soft-feeling even with the thin layer of fabric separating their skin, and before the turn of the hour, Nakamura is asleep in the scent of Yoshida’s hair.   
  


.  
  


Kano sits on the bench, one leg folded neatly over the other. The bay is quiet, and she finds herself staring at the glittery afternoon sun on the still, murky water. She sits up straighter when notices Yoshida in her periphery vision, and quickly dabs her lip free of crumbs when she sees Yoshida. She nods her head, long, enticing fingers before taking a seat next to her. 

They bench feels warmer in Yoshida in it. Yoshida shifts slightly, and as their thighs brush, Kano feels a bolt of electricity shoot right through her, making her sit a little straighter. 

The scent of lavender and clean linen surrounds Kano’s senses, and she forgets to speak for a moment. Not for the first time, Kano finds her looking at the long, slender fingers wrapped around the strap of Yoshida’s purse. 

“Do you know this place?” Yoshida asks her, an excited glint in her eye. 

“Should I?” Kano replies. 

“Ah, you know Shadow Force?” Nakamura nods eagerly. Ninja-themed toku never fails to charm her. “The episode where they all start hallucinating...”

“I remember! Have you been in the office park in Chiba?” 

“No, but I’ve always wanted to take photos there.” 

“Then we’ll go together! We can make a day of it.” 

Once Nakamura’s excitement dissipates, there’s nothing left to say. Just the heavy, unspoken acknowledgement of what happened the previous week between them. Nakamura has been going over this conversation over and over in head for a week, and still doesn’t know what the right words to say are. 

(She kinda wishes she had Kitashiro here, to cut through everything with her bluntness. 

“I’m sorry,” Nakamura just says. 

“No,” Yoshida insists. “I’m sorry. You were drunk, and—” 

“No, Yoshida-san, it … It wasn’t fair of me to just spring my feelings on you like that!” 

The outburst immediately makes her feel hot and embarrassed, and Yoshida shakes her head. “I think you’re misunderstanding.”

“I am?” 

“I like you, Nakamura,” Yoshida confesses, and Nakamura’s heart stops. “As more just than just an ally, or a friend.” 

She should feel relief, but her first instinct is disbelief. “Why. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Yoshida’s lips twist. “Why didn’t you?”

“What we have… It’s special. Our friendship is so important to me, and I was scared to ruin it.”

“Exactly.” Yoshida says. “And when I was talking about wanting to be with the person most important to me, I was talking about you…”

“I feel so stupid now...” 

“No. I think. I was too scared really tell you how I felt. You … You met me at the time when I was so close to giving up on my safe, and gave me things I stopped thinking I could have for myself. I — I wouldn’t even have gone to photography school if it wasn’t for you. A part of me — just still felt undeserving. Like when Tomomi left the Torirangers... ”

Undeserving? Of her. She can hardly believe it, but the reference makes Nakamura unapologetically beam. 

“I feel the same way about you. You’ve become one of the most important relationships in my life so fast. It's hard to believe this is real, and. And,” Nakamura can’t believe what she’s about to say. “You’re so sexy.” 

There’s a pause. They lock eyes. Nakamura worries, but then Yoshida lifts her wrist and giggles behind her hand. Nakamura soon follows, giggling unrestrained and giddy. She feels lighter than she has in -- she feels lighter than she ever has. 

“You, too.” 

Nakamura’s eyes widen “What? Me?” 

“Yes. I wouldn’t haven’t photographed you if I didn’t think so.”

“This is … Weird. I’ve never had anyone call me that, and to be honest … I’ve never really dated before. Not anyone I liked, anyhow.” 

“I know it’s intimidating, but we’ll figure it out.” Yoshida says, and the easy curve of her smile makes Nakamura really believe it. 

They move closer together on the bench. Nakamura leans her head on Yoshida’s shoulder, wraps her fingers around her arm. Nakamura hears people in her periphery, but doesn’t care. This is their moment, no one but else them, and the bay looks so beautiful, glimmering in the light as the clouds roll smoothly roll by. Yoshida slides a hand between her legs, to rest on her thigh, and Nakamura feels warm. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Yoshida turns to reach into her purse, and pulls out a thick white envelope. “This is for you.” 

Nakamura takes it. She knows what it is before Yoshida says it: 

“Our photos, from our shoot last month.”

Nakamura runs her fingers over the seam, like it’s something holy. She takes a deep breath. A moment to just appreciate … Her life, this shift in her and Yoshida’s relationship while it’s exciting and new, and the fresh autumn sun shining down on them.

Carefully, she opens the envelope. The photos catch the glare of the sun as pulls him out, and when tilts them into focus, someone beautiful. Someone happy happy, free, unburdened, and light. Someone unapologetically herself.  _ _


End file.
